The not-so-great news is, I know that because of all the ghosts in the tunnels.
I try not to flinch when another translucent, barely humanoid shape drifts out from one of the walls beside me, muttering unintelligibly. So far, all of the spirits popping up today look like they've been down here for areallylong time. I can't understand a word they're saying.
Maybe I should just take off the enchanted necklace hidden under my shirt, but I'm paranoid about losing it.
“Another apparition,” Silas mutters nearby, eyeing the new specter.
"Fantastic. As if these tunnels weren't creepy enoughbeforeturning out to be fucking haunted," my older brother grumbles beside me, pulling another one of the cookies I made out of his small backpack and taking a bite. He's not usually a fan of sweets, but he claims my cookies are worth every calorie. "If we die in a ghost-induced cave-in, Maven will never forgive us."
Everett stands beside me with his arms folded as we watch the fae excavators debate the best way to magically extend this tunnel without causing a collapse. My brother has somehow found a way to make durable, practical excavation clothes look stylish, and, as usual, there's barely a speck of dust on him. He’s even wearing a trench coat that he somehow pulls off.
Meanwhile, I brush dirt off my face for the millionth time before elbowing him gently, well aware of what has put him in a sour mood.
"Relax, Broody. I'm sure Maven's fine—but you could've gone with her to Halfton, you know. I know you guys can't stand being apart from her."
Everett glances down at me. In the dim mage lights hovering in this tunnel, the jagged scar stretching down the left side of his face looks lighter than usual. “You think I would leave you to die alone when the cave-in happens? Give me some credit."
"Gods, you're such a worrywart," I tease, watching as some of the fae use magic to start carefully clearing another path branching off of this one. "So, what's the telepathic update?"
Thanks to an incident in which a couple of the Amato quintet members forgot to wear mytherun around me, I quickly learned that they have telepathic conversations. That little fact wasn't a big deal to me at the time because I was a little too busy almost suffocating under the many veryintenseemotions they all feel toward their keeper—and my sister-in-law feels just as intensely, if not more so, about all of her matches.
Being around them is pure torture whenever they're not wearing mytherun.
Don't get me wrong. Iadoremy brother. I really love his quintet, too, even though I'm a nervous, uncharacteristically shy mess around Maven. Seriously, though, how is one supposed to act around a literal hell-raised demigoddess sister-in-law who is a bonified baddie?
They're the most famous quintet in the world. A quintet that's gone through unthinkable things and back again to be with each other, despite all their inner and outer bruises and scars. Now they're living the sort of happily-ever-after all legacies ache for deep down, including me.
I'm really happy for them.
Butgods, even with mytherun, my empathic sensitivities get rubbed raw around them. I've gotten myself a little too drunk while visiting them on a couple of occasions to try to take the edge off.
At one of the fae excavators' requests, Everett creates a temporary pillar of ice to help support the new tunnel's ceiling in one place. Powerful elemental that he is, he barely gives it his attention as he replies to me.
"There isn't much of an update yet."
"Aside from our keeper being quietly horrified by all aspects of childbirth, the more she learns about it," Silas adds with a slight chuckle.
"Maven, horrified?" I laugh, trying to picture it. "I didn't think that was possible."
The excavation starts to move forward again, with the fae using their magic to slowly delve further into the new tunnel. I try my best to sense where the sleepers are calling to me, realizing it feels stronger today than usual.
As usual, their dream-like feelings seem almost synchronized, somehow. Whatever they're dreaming about, it's a blur of pain, hope, helplessness, need, frustration, desperation…
It feels exactly like a cry for help. Though how they're coordinating and communicating that while so deeply asleep, I'm really not sure. I'm just glad that sleeping emotions don't overwhelm me the same way waking emotions sometimes do.
I finish telling the others the next direction I think we need to go before I fall into step with Everett again. It doesn't takean empath to notice that both he and Silas are quietly impatient today, aching to get back to their keeper.
I bet it’s amazing to adore someone so much that being apart from them is torture.
Finally, Everett clears his throat. "I'm sure you've heard, but the next official Seeking is being held in one week. First time since before the Upheaval."
Aha. That.
"I'll probably go next year," I say sheepishly, fidgeting with one of my coat sleeves.
"Why wait? Aren't you curious who fate will match you with?"
Oh, I'm definitely curious.
